


Hidden Places

by frau_kali



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Charles, Class Differences, Dom Charles and sub Erik, Erik Has Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn with Feelings, Secret Relationship, Sexual Politics, Sneaking Around, Switching, Telepathy, Top Charles, Topping from the Bottom, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frau_kali/pseuds/frau_kali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik really might've known that Charles Xavier was an expert in the business of sneaking about, probably even at back alley encounters, which he can just imagine Charles conducted with the utmost discretion, like any proper 19th Century English lord with a good upbringing should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dedkake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/gifts).



> For the lovely dedkake and her prompt: Sneaking around (the mansion/CIA/hotel). This could be AU, too.
> 
> Well, I opted to go with a Victorian AU, since you seem to like AUs a lot. This is set in 1895, though I apologize if I've gotten any historical details wrong. I tried to hit as many of your preferences as I thought fit here, too, even gave writing bottom!Erik a go, which is a first for me.
> 
> I hope you and everyone else who reads it enjoys it :)

Erik really might've known that Charles Xavier was an expert in the business of sneaking about, probably even at back alley encounters, which he can just imagine Charles conducted with the utmost discretion, like any proper 19th Century English lord with a good upbringing should. Of course, _proper_ English gentlemen certainly didn't look the way Charles did right now, leaning against the wall of his—no, Erik reminded himself, _their_ —bedroom, the door firmly closed, with only the yellow candlelight there to illuminate his face, his parted red lips and closed eyes, every moan he was holding in.

Erik felt a surge of pride at being responsible for making his companion look like that, for cracking that mask Charles wore a little more every time he took his cock past his lips, into the warmth of his mouth where he could taste the precome on his tongue. Erik had become quite an expert at this over these past few months, when it was just the two of them in this house, before Charles' sister and other friends of the family had come along, forcing the two of them to conduct this thing of theirs in secret.

Charles gave Erik's short hair a little tug, pulling him back so he could thrust forward into his mouth again with a low, soft gasp that normally would've been an obscene sort of moan. Erik went with it, easily taking Charles down again, humming while he licked along the underside of his cock. He could tell Charles was close, could feel the steady throb of the flesh beneath his lips, the sweet, salty taste of precome in his throat.

He couldn't help it, had to reach down to adjust himself through breeches that had become far, far too tight. He watched Charles as he did it, and Charles watched him in return, eyes so dark that Erik could hardly even see the blue in them anymore. 

_That's it, Erik,_ Charles' voice whispered in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine like usual. _I'm going to pull back now, and I want you to use your tongue on the tip, to taste it, while you stroke me until I come._ And pull back he did, letting Erik get to work tasting and lapping at the wet, leaking tip of his cock. 

Charles gasped above him, eyes closing, hips rolling forward in automatic short little thrusts that became more as Erik wrapped long fingers around the shaft and began to stroke, each pull taking the foreskin up and down, hiding and exposing the tip.

Not that that stopped Erik from continuing to taste him there, of course, and soon enough Charles was crying out his name through their mental connection, all his pleasure shoved right into Erik's mind along with it. Normally, quite often, this was enough to make Erik come, too, even without a hand on his cock, the mental stimulation alone overwhelming, but not this time.

He didn't notice immediately, though, far too busy being caught up in the sudden warmth as Charles filled his mouth with come and he swallowed it all happily, greedily. He felt so utterly debauched like this, every time he got on his knees for Charles, let the other man take charge, even subtly, allowing him to show Erik so many things he'd never experienced before. And yet, even so, he never felt like he was anything but Charles' equal in this, despite their different social positions.

Finally he pulled away, Charles sliding from his mouth as Erik leaned back on his knees, looking up at him. Again he couldn't help but palm at himself. _Charles,_ he sent, not daring to speak aloud, not when anyone could come upstairs anytime. _Don't you think you're being cruel, keeping me on edge like this? I thought you liked it when I came from your pleasure._

Charles took a moment to breathe deep before turning to the mirror to tighten his necktie and make his hair look as neat as the could under the circumstances. Evidently he was feeling more daring than Erik because he whispered, softly: “I'm not finished with you yet, love. Take out your cock, stroke it for me, I want to see you.” He licked those red lips of his, and Erik hurried to comply. He took a half second to ensure there was no metal coming up the stairs, that they wouldn't be disturbed, before he quickly opened his pants enough to get at his cock.

He watched Charles as he took himself in hand, his cock hard and throbbing, warm under his hand, precome beading at the tip. He took it and spread it down the shaft to allow for more friction, sighing lightly as he stroked, hips pushing up into his hand. He watched Charles the whole time, knowing how the telepath got off on this, how much he enjoyed the sight of it.

“Mmm, lovely,” Charles sighed, smiling down at him, his gaze sliding over Erik's form, pausing at his cock, and the movements of his hand. _My god, Erik, you're beautiful. Just splendid. If we didn't need to be back soon, to attend to our guests, I'd put you on the bed right now, get you to open me up so I could ride you. It feels like too long since I last had you in me._ The image the words evoked nearly made Erik moan. Charles was such a _sight_ when he rode him, the way he used his hips, how he slid up and down Erik's cock, clenching around him each time, how hot and wonderfully tight he always was, the way he'd toy with Erik's nipples, or demand to have his own toyed with in return, and just how utterly _loud_ he was throughout.

And it _had_ been a while; a whole week since Raven and the others showed up to disrupt the quiet peace Charles and Erik had established, where they could do what they liked without worrying if anyone saw, where there was no need for all this hiding and sneaking, all these hidden places.

Erik's hand sped up, hid thumb flicking over the tip, smearing more precome. “ _Charles_ \--” he gasped out, found he couldn't quite finish the words so he had to do it mentally: _I want you to touch me, to use your mouth on me, let me fuck your face while I pull your hair, my hand isn't enough, not when you're right here--_ He knew how much Charles loved all of those things, how he couldn't quite resist them. If they went on long enough, maybe Erik would have Charles hard all over again by the time he'd come. Such a damn shame they couldn't just take the rest of the night like they normally would.

“Stand up,” Charles whispered, and Erik did, hand slipping off his cock. He swayed slightly, just a bit unsteady on his feet and determined not to show it. Charles was in front of him in a mere instant, hands grasping the lapels of his coat to pull him down into a kiss.

“Charles!” They both stopped, their lips inches apart, as Raven's voice sounded in the hallway. A moment later the doorknob twisted, though Erik held it shut with his powers. “Charles, are you in here?”

_The closet, now!_ Charles sent hurriedly. Erik turned, moving to the closet door and slipping inside, quietly closing it before he released his hold of the room's door and allowed Raven to enter.

He sighed, letting his forehead rest against the closed door while his eyes adjusted to the near complete darkness, the only light from the candles in the next room that slid under the door. Outside he could hear Raven going on about how her friend Moira had finally arrived and how Charles ought to come and say hello. She seemed both excited and insistent, and Erik had to wonder why she didn't know about Charles' sexual preferences, considering how Charles had talked her up as being open minded and kind.

Regardless, though, being interrupted by his lover's sister managed to kill Erik's arousal rather thoroughly. He reached down and did up his breeches, tucking himself back into his pants again.

_I'm sorry, darling,_ Charles sent him to him, even as Erik heard footsteps that were undoubtedly him leaving the room with Raven.

_I thought you would've sensed her coming up the stairs,_ Erik replied, with only the barest hint of frustration. He could not wait until they were alone again here.

_You were very distracting, so I didn't quite get the chance to. And she would've dragged me away even if I had. I promise I'll make it up to you soon._

Unfortunately 'soon' was not that night. Because the house was too far from civilization for anyone to make it home, all of Raven's party guests spent the night. And Erik had to sleep in the bedroom that was assigned to him, as opposed to Charles' room where he'd been sleeping before the house became more crowded. It was still nicer than the small servant's bedroom he used to occupy when Charles arrived here over a month ago, but it was also too empty. He missed certain nightly rituals he and Charles had begun to partake in, such as their shared rereading of _The Picture of Dorian Grey_ and the discussions it prompted about Wilde. Even their nightly chess game was no longer a private affair, which restricted open conversation about their abilities or anything else that might be deemed inappropriate to thoughts alone. At least Charles' power allowed for that.

Erik honestly never felt more like he did not belong then when he was among the guests, when he went down to eat breakfast with them and just barely managed to pass himself off as a gentleman in his borrowed clothing and with the brief lessons he'd gotten from Charles two weeks prior. It wasn't that he wanted to go back to being among the lower classes, or like he felt he belonged there in the first place, but more that being around these rich snobs reminded him once more of why he hated them so much. Charles had proven to be an exception, a man Erik had wanted to hate, but who turned out to be so very different from the rest of them.

Well, mostly. It wasn't as if Charles Xavier wasn't still spoiled, hadn't had everything handed to him on a silver platter. And yet nevertheless, Erik was irrevocably fond of him, quite possibly more than that. He hadn't expected this when he came here, all he'd wanted was some peace and quiet while he waited out the trouble Shaw had made for him in Germany before he tried to pick up his hunt again. 

Instead he got Charles, and a trust he'd grown to have in him that even allowed him to indulge certain submissive sexual inclinations he'd long tried to keep hidden. He found he rather loved their intellectual relationship, too.

Although Erik had learned by now some of the intricacies of rich men's Victorian fashion, he still found certain aspects of dressing himself without help difficult. Or rather, to be more accurate, _saying_ that gave him an excuse to see Charles every morning before breakfast. He was sure the telepath saw right through it, too, but said nothing of it.

Unfortunately, and somewhat annoyingly, no one could in this world ever seemed to do anything without dressing well for it, not even breakfast. Charles must've surprised all of their guests by having no valet and doing everything for himself every day. He also hadn't, since coming here, felt the need to wear anything more fancy than a white shirt and blazer. It was one of the first things Erik noticed about him, what set him apart from the rest of these people. 

“They must see right through me,” Erik commented as Charles finished with the buttons on his blazer. He could've managed those and the cuff links, of course, they were all metal, but he enjoyed how it felt when Charles did it, the soft touches against the bits of metal that he felt so clearly, and that were just the right sort of tease.

“I doubt that. And if they did, you'd silence any oncoming protest with one of your angry looks.” Charles finished his work, then gestured to the mirror so Erik could look at himself.

As usual, the reflection that greeted him looked nothing like poor, unfortunate, unhappy Erik Lehnsherr who'd spent much of his time either trying to get away from Sebastian Shaw's clutches or trying to find and kill him, depending on whichever kind of game Shaw was playing with him that month or year. That Shaw had so entangled himself in this world of rich snobs often made Erik not want to be part of it even more.

But it wasn't Shaw forcing him now, it was Charles asking him. Erik looked at his companion in the mirror, lifting an eyebrow. “Angry looks?”

“Well, yes,” Charles put a hand on his shoulder, and then proceeded to give his best impression of one of Erik's glares; all stone faced and narrowed eyes. Only on Charles it didn't look the least bit threatening, instead it made it difficult for him to not to laugh just a little bit.

Charles, of course, promptly responded to that by playfully smacking him on the shoulder. The irony of it amused Erik more because he knew just how threatening and dangerous Charles really was, and how he didn't even need to look it. What his ability made him capable of, _that_ was the scary thing, and Erik often felt thrilled to know Charles would never use it on him. Or at least, he usually did, when he silenced the nagging little voice in his head that warned him to trust no one.

If Charles picked up on what he was thinking, he said nothing, instead leaning in to kiss Erik on the cheek. “We should go down now,” he said softly.

Erik was having none of that, though, that was an unfair tease. He responded to it by pulling Charles against him and kissing him properly, the sort of good morning kiss that they shared when they were still waking up next to each other. And then, just to return the favour, the tease, he pulled away just as Charles was really starting to get into it.

“Yes, we should go,” he whispered, voice rougher than he intended. Dear god, it'd been too long since they just had more than a short while to themselves.

Charles made no protests, instead he put a hand to his temple to indicate he was checking the hall for any minds, and then he took Erik by the hand and pulled him out into the empty hall. Erik merely thought they would be go down for breakfast, perhaps with some space between them, but instead Charles turned and kissed him hard, right there in broad daylight, where any one of the many servants or valets brought along by their guests, or anyone else, could walk right around the corner and see them.

He wondered if Charles could've kept anyone who wandered by from seeing them like this, how far he could go, how much he could touch before the concentration would be broken.

_Interesting idea, my friend,_ Charles' voice whispered across his mind just as his tongue licked all inside his mouth. _Maybe we'll find out one day._

Not today, Erik knew. And now, just as he was getting aroused, as his hands began to slide downward, Charles pulled back, separating them. He seemed quite delighted. “Now we really should go down, before they send someone up to look for us,” he said, running a hand along Erik's cheek, straightening his own waistcoat and heading for the stairs.

Damnit, Erik thought, this telepath would surely by the end of him.

Breakfast, as it turned out, was more interesting than usual that particular morning. When he came downstairs a few minutes after Charles to suffer through another meal with their unwanted visitors, he found them in the midst of a discussion about a certain Irish writer, whose trial had been the talk of some of the newspapers Charles had delivered to the house. Usually they came late, but there they were nonetheless – Oscar Wilde had been sentenced to two years hard labour for 'gross indecency.' Erik could hardly think of it without getting angry.

Naturally this made it even more difficult to sit through breakfast while two of the guests went on about how “that Wilde fellow” got what he deserved, but then also how they really ought not to be talking about this in the presence of women.

Erik met Charles' eyes from across the table, wishing he was actually sitting next to him. _Interesting company your family keeps,_ he thought, loudly and intending to be heard.

Charles took a sip of his morning tea, seemingly ignoring the whole conversation. _Oh, these are mother's friends, they'll no doubt be reporting back to her. I can promise you that Raven isn't like them._

Before Erik could formulate a response, though, Raven proved Charles right. Sitting there with her blond hair pulled back, her long white gloves and yellow gown, she looked around the table and spoke up: “I don't think what happened to Mr Wilde makes any sense at all.” At once everyone looked at her, while Erik noticed Charles was seemingly trying not choke on his tea.

“He and Mr Douglas and Mr Taylor never hurt anyone. What they did is their business, why should it matter if they're different from the rest of us?” she went on despite the scandalous looks she was getting from around the table. Well, from everyone but Moira, who seemed to be in quiet agreement with her.

In that moment Erik took back every bad thing he thought about her.

“Raven...” Charles began, softly.

“What?” Raven looked at him sharply. “You told me I can speak my mind, Charles.”

Everyone looked at Charles now and he merely looked away, rather obviously not wanting to be involved in this debate with these kinds of people. Erik could understand why. And unfortunately he felt sure Charles' mother would be giving him a talking to about being a bad influence on Raven with his 'disgustingly liberal university politics' or something or rather.

_Yes, she probably will,_ Charles sent, taking another long sip of his tea. _Nothing out of the ordinary there, I'm afraid._ Alright, so maybe Charles wasn't spoiled in everything.

Eventually the awkwardness became too much and one of the other men at the table changed the subject, allowing breakfast to go on like usual. Erik made a mental note to remember that moment, though, when Raven dared to speak up for anyone who was different from the norm. He didn't quite understand why she did it, he could only assume it was Charles' influence on her.

Thankfully, later that afternoon all of their guests departed. All save Raven and the entourage of servants and cooks she'd brought with her, of course. She didn't want to go riding when Charles asked her, or to go for a walk, and decided to stay and look through the library instead. This, at last, gave Charles the opportunity to make it up to Erik, as he said he would. Or at least Erik hoped he would.

They rode out along the path from the house that sunny afternoon, but Charles quickly strayed from it and headed for the trees and the river. Of course, they had to race to the tree line, something that had become a bit of a ritual for them both, and which Erik happily indulged Charles in.

_Much as your sister's defence of people like us was appreciated, Charles, your mother's friends make an unfortunate point – People who are different will never be accepted, not by everyone else._ Erik enjoyed doing this, starting a debate in the middle of a race, kicking his heels into his horse to finally get up beside Charles. _If they refuse to accept us for our attraction to one another, how do you think they'll respond when they find out about our gifts?_

Charles glanced over at him, giving his horse another kick, but the mare had been running too fast for too long now and Erik got out in front easily enough as they reached the treeline.

When they got there, Charles pulled on the reigns to bring his horse to a halt, sliding easily out of the saddle. Erik eyed him for a moment, then did the same.

“Well?” He said, with just a hint of smugness. Perhaps Charles would finally admit defeat.

Of course, if he did, Erik would be just a little disappointed. “You're being far too absolute, Erik, and far too cynical,” Charles said, falling into step beside him as they headed into the woods. Erik knew just where they were going, he'd been wanting to go there more often, they'd only managed it once since Raven's arrival, what with her always wanting to go riding with them.

“I'm being realistic, and you know it,” Erik said.

“You're ignoring that people can be taught that we mean them no harm, and that the world is changing. Slavery was an institution and now it's gone, both here and in America.”

Erik scoffed, about to speak up but Charles continued: “And I'm not saying we ought to reveal ourselves to everyone, or to anyone. It may be better to wait until the world is ready to accept our existence, or at least until people aren't still scoffing at Darwin's work en mass.”

God, Erik thought, why did he love this naive, foolish man? Charles made him so angry it was like a contradiction, why was he so very in love with him? Why--

Oh.

He'd been right before, it was more than fondness. All those new feelings he had when he looked at Charles, that's what they were. He was in love. He'd never _been_ in love before. He'd never even been so at peace, not since before Shaw murdered his parents.

“Erik? Are you alright, my friend?” Charles said, pulling him from his reverie.

“Of course I am,” he replied quickly, hoping Charles hadn't heard his thoughts. Sometimes he didn't do enough to keep them hidden. And this was not something he was ready to say, not a secret he wanted to tell, not yet. Maybe not ever. He still didn't know if he was going to stay here, much as he wanted to. He still had to find Shaw, to make him pay.

As he contemplated these things for what must've been the millionth time, he looked up to find he and Charles had arrived at the river. It was nice and warm today, and the water was calm, probably quite cool as well. He and Charles had gone swimming in it more than once, but today he doubted that was going to happen.

Charles gave him a smile as he tied his horse to a nearby tree. “Well, you can think of a rebuttal to my masterful argument once I've made up for last night.”

The promise of that was enough for Erik to forget all about everything else—well, mostly, his feelings remained—as he stepped around his horse and let Charles pull him down into a kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth to meet Erik's in a way that sent a hard jolt of pleasure right to Erik's cock.

It took little time for things to escalate from there, for a blanket to be laid out and breeches to be shoved down, for Charles to have Erik on his back just as they'd both been wanting for days and days now. Charles slicked himself up, let Erik watch, before he took him inside, moaning loudly like he always did.

Erik got lost in it rather quickly, the flow of the river, the sounds of the birds, even the sense of nearby metal all completely drowned out by the sight of Charles sliding up and down his cock, clenching around him with that perfect, warm tightness Erik could never get enough of, just like he often felt sure Charles couldn't get enough of his cock.

“Not quite, Erik,” Charles gasped as he dropped down again, filled entirely with Erik's cock. “It's better to say I can't quite get enough of _you_.” He bit his lip, sliding upwards again, leaving nothing but the tip inside, even as Erik rolled his hips up to try and get more, before Charles moaned as he took him in again. “It's every part of you that I want, not just this lovely cock of yours.” He gasped, then added, mentally: _In fact, I want to fuck you after this, would you like me to?_

Now it was Erik's turn to moan, a soft sound pulled from his lips. _Yes, Charles, yes I want you to fuck me,_ he answered at once. He never used to be so quick to admit to it, but the more power he'd handed Charles, the more trust he'd placed in him, the more Erik had come to understand that he wanted, and quite enjoyed, having Charles in him. Perhaps not as much as the reverse, but more than enough. 

_Then I think you should come for me, and I'd like your hand on my cock, too._ Charles sent, his orders always more like suggestions that Erik was happy to follow.

He took Charles in hand, working over the shaft with his long fingers, so utterly taken in my the sight of the other man coming completely undone above him, all while he kept moving up and down Erik's length, kept clenching around him just to make him gasp every time he did it.

Predictably, when Charles came, spilling all over Erik's clothed chest, it was enough to pull Erik right over the edge, enough to make him come right inside him, Charles moaning loudly again as he took Erik all the way inside once more.

Afterwards, they both curled up on the blanket, breeches pulled up a little higher than before. As he stroked Charles' hair, Erik wished absently that they could be naked, but unfortunately even out here, far away from everyone, that was not a good idea. No, they'd return to that once Raven was gone. Or once Charles told her about them, if he decided to.

“Erik?” Charles spoke up then, turning his head up so his chin was resting on Erik's chest.

“Hmm?”

“Have you given any thought to my offer to come with me to Oxford when classes start again?”

Erik looked down at him, uncertainty washing over him once more. Charles had extended that offer over two weeks ago, and somehow he'd been strangely patient in not asking about it until now. Truth be told, Erik disliked the idea of having someone else pay his way, but on the other hand, he'd been denied the opportunity to go to university, a chance he very likely never would've gotten in the first place, considering his family's lack of wealth.

So of course he wanted to go, wanted to learn, to throw himself into such an environment and have all the things he'd dreamt about when he was a boy. But he was also not a charity case.

“There are others like us there,” Charles continued. “Like us in both ways. And I should expect we'll find other gifted people in London as well. I'd love to find them, Erik, with you, and help them, too. We can share rooms in London, no one will suspect anything, we'll appear simply as two school friends. Think of all we could do together.”

Oh. That was unexpected. Charles, it seemed, wanted to spend a great deal more time with him, more than Erik had previously thought. He felt warm at the very possibility. And, perhaps stupidly, he answered, softly: “I... Yes, I think I want that, to be at your side.”

Instead of answering, Charles moved up and kissed him, a lazy thing that quickly turned more heated and hungry. Erik shivered at the possibility, even if he had to leave to find and kill Shaw sometime in the future, he told himself he would come back, he could still have all of this, everything they both wanted.

_I love you, Charles,_ he thought to himself, as he was ordered to turn over, to get on his hands and knees while Charles pulled his breeches down to expose his ass. His cock was hard all over again, and he moaned loud as his lover's oil-slicked fingers opened him up nice and slow.

“Always so tight, Erik...” Charles sighed, grinding his hard cock against Erik's thigh. “I can tell how badly you want this, perhaps I should have you like this more often.”

_Yes, I want it. Just do it, Charles, don't be such a tease,_ Erik sent, pressing backwards first into Charles' fingers, and then Charles' cock, thick and hard and so good inside him.

_Next time, ask nicely, love,_ Charles' mental voice whispered as he fucked into Erik, laying across his back, going slow, really letting Erik _feel_ it, letting him cry out even harder when that cock brushed against the sweet bundle of nerves inside him.

It hadn't escaped his notice how Charles had called him 'love,' either. He'd used that endearments the previous night, too, and a few other times. Erik wondered now if it meant anything. If it meant the telepath loved him, too. He ought to just tell him, to tell Charles his feelings, profess his love.

Perhaps tomorrow he would say it. Perhaps next week he would make up his mind about whether or not he would stay. For now he was content to enjoy Charles' company, to exist in the secret, hidden places they'd carved out for each other, happy and safe from the rest of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> One last note here, just to add - Yes, Raven is meant to be a mutant in this, too, Charles just hasn't said anything to anyone else about her, as he's being really overprotective. I'm sure he'll tell Erik (or Raven will tell him herself) if I ever write more fics in this verse, which I might do.


End file.
